


You

by hauntedelation



Category: Blood Creek (2009), Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cryptic speech, Fluff, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedelation/pseuds/hauntedelation
Summary: You weren’t sure about him, this melancholy paramedic who you met through a close co-worker. Yet from the start, everything felt right. Several months stretched by with you growing closer and closer to Evan. It was pleasant, sometimes more than that. For a while there you could say that you were in the most bliss you had ever experienced.Except, something called to you. A feeling in your gut that transpired during a long-awaited reunion on the night of Valentine’s Day.
Relationships: Evan Marshall/Reader, Henry Cavill/Reader, evan marshall/you
Kudos: 4





	You

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched Blood Creek and again, I really liked Henry’s character. Evan is a sweetie and of course, this doesn’t follow the plot of the movie. I don’t really know where this came from, I didn’t mean for it to end so...puzzling? 
> 
> I wrote this with gender-neutral pronouns and with a Black reader in mind. This was supposed to simply be sad and angsty but, I liked how it went. I still mean for this to be a sad romance, hopefully, I portrayed that well enough. The man just needs that affection in his life. (Proofreading happened, sorry for any errors.)

_Gif found on_ [ _this blog_ ](https://eternalroleplay.tumblr.com/post/134877439204/henry-cavill-gif-hunt) _, I couldn’t find the original poster :(_

➽─────────────❥

When Walter Marshall told you that he had a younger brother, you purely rolled your eyes and sent him a snort. For as long as you knew the stoic detective, he never mentioned a _hint_ of having any other family in his life—other than his daughter and his ex-wife.

The man uttered it with a shallow weight like it had been a musing about the weather, _“Oh, when you come over this Sunday, I can introduce you to my little brother, Evan.”_

With a turn of your head, you made a face that resembled a scowl; but, you weren’t irritated. Walter had caught that look and hid his amused smile behind the lid of his coffee mug.

You both had clocked into your adjoining shifts and sauntered side-by-side down that long, fluorescent hallway. Walter’s comment emerged the moment you reached that left turn into your office. When the words finally soaked in, you paused.

_“Wait, you have a brother?”_

That was the detective’s cue to turn and continue walking a few doors down to his office. He possessed something of a smirk under that dark nest on his face. And, with your frantic, _“Walt? Walt how come you never told me—”_

He only replied with, _“You never asked.”_

➽─────────────❥

You recall the mystery brother standing by an old grandfather clock in Walter’s living room. His eyes were fixated on the television screen in front of him, his body subconsciously leaning toward the thrill of the game.

There was a beer in his hand, and he took a long swig from the glass rim before letting that hand drop and adjusting his stance to rest against the wall. He wore a soot-colored canvas work coat with a light grey hood below. From what you could see, under that hood was a dark navy uniform.

Within the loud commotion of another touchdown, the detective abandoned the traditional method of gaining his brother’s attention and settled on placing a hand on his back.

Evan was in the middle of another swig. Upon turning around, his brows raised and his fatigued eyes shined at the sight of Walter standing behind him. In a pleasant greeting, Evan pulled the beer away from his lips, placed the bottle down, and greeted his brother with a big hug.

_“Walt! Hey, sorry I couldn’t catch you when I came in.”_

Once the two stepped away from each other, the air between them was light and affable. For the first time with knowing Walter, you heard a buoyant laugh fall from his lungs.

 _“Don’t worry about it,”_ he waved away the apology, _“I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine.”_

Walter stepped back and gestured his hand to you.

_"This is Y/n, a dear co-worker and someone who has been with me through many hefty cases. They haven’t annoyed me too much, so that’s why I figured it was time to introduce them to you.”_

You clicked your tongue at Walter’s comment and took a step toward the stranger. With a soft smile, you shifted your hold on a glass and held your hand out toward him, _"It’s nice to finally meet you, Evan.”_

The look in his eyes was curious and they drifted over Walter’s for that short moment. A grin crept on his stubbled face. When those eyes slid down to you, they straightaway lost focus and _softened._

Without breaking his gape on you, Evan removed his free hand from the confines of his jacket pocket. He encased your digits in his and shook.

You remember distinctly, how the warmth from his hand enveloped yours, almost like it chased the lines in your palm.

➽─────────────❥

It was a little over five months ago, _five months_ from first shaking Evan Marshall’s hand, from observing how he would stop and let his eyes glide over your face, from listening to his steady voice and wondering exactly how it was that he _didn’t_ have an accent like Walter.

 _‘We don’t share a Mother,’_ he said _._

Evan was American and was living in West Virginia for a while before he decided to move back up to Minnesota. He told you he was down there to take care of his sick Mother while studying to become a paramedic.

You remember leaning against the kitchen counter, and watching how the low light illuminated his face. Evan was an average man, not as broad and mountainous as his older brother, but, he _still_ towered over you.

He was incredibly gentle, albeit hesitant, but throughout that night you could see him slowly unfurl before you.

_Where are you from?_

_What do you like to do?_ He asked you.

While taken with his interest, how you spoke induced many smiles and responses from the man. Eventually, you asked him the same.

He was currently a paramedic in town. He doesn’t get very much free-time due to it but he seemed to enjoy cooking, playing the piano, or listening to music whenever he could.

Evan pointed to a large bowl containing some sort of pasta salad to the right of you.

_'I made my own dressing this time, I wanted to see if it would improve the recipe.’_

You took a closer look and saw how the bowl was just about empty. When you thought more about it, you recalled having a sizable helping of that pasta much earlier, and couldn’t help grabbing more.

Under the kitchen light, you could have sworn that you witnessed Evan’s ears burn when you pointed that out.

➽─────────────❥

You made it a goal to learn as much as you could about him. There wasn’t many things that you could hold on to, but you had a handful.

He liked to listen to the old rock songs sometimes, the grunge and garage sounds. He listened to just about every band with that vibe but, he seemed to enjoy the ones from way back when the most.

Every time you heard that music from his truck radio, it brought you back to being younger, where you would watch the T.V. and see teens in acid wash jeans with cigarettes between their fingers.

You could just _see_ him when he was younger: hair long, unkempt, his ears holding silver earrings, and black boots on his feet with words etched into the side that probably meant something to him at the time.

Evan shook his head at you and hid a smile behind his hand, _‘You were close…I was more into sneakers, but I still wrote dumb stuff on the sides of them.’_

You _were_ close, the photo he showed you that day did show a young man with his curly hair in his face, the look of a perfectly misguided youth. Now, Evan was an upstanding man, he didn’t wear those same clothes that he used to.

Still, he liked to keep that part of himself, to remember who he used to be, and to hear those songs that his younger self hung onto. You decided to as well.

You memorized everything that seemed to make him the happiest: going for long rides in his truck, holding his hand and walking with him with the night air surrounding you both, even dragging him to the grocery store just to buy your favorite bag of chips.

A recent one was laying in the sunlight and watching him play his piano.

You never knew that Evan was as talented as he was until he sat down one early morning and decided to play. He was awfully timid when his fingers first grazed those keys, but, your kind words, your _encouragement_ shooed away his apprehension.

After that particular morning, Evan only wanted to play when it was just _you two._

The Marshall brothers shared a similar woe in their blue eyes, it had to have been in the blood, but Evan possessed a more quelled spirit within him. You noticed from the way that he handled himself, how he would always cross his arms around his body as if he was shielding everything away.

You could see the way that the man drank in your touch during the close moments you spent together, how those very eyes seemed to never want to leave your body.

He was completely enamored with you.

Those times you observed him, your teeth chewing at your nail, you would question to yourself:

_How come Walter never told me about you, really?_

➽─────────────❥

 _“Get in the tub with me, please?”_ Your lips tickled the collar of his shirt and smoothed up over the swell of his throat. Below your mouth, and through his thin skin, you could feel the vibration of a hum crawling its way out of his body.

You did a lot for tonight, the 14th of February. Like some sort of fanatic, the bathroom was littered with red shiny balloons with images of cupid on the surface.

He took in the condition of the heated room, drifting his attention from the candles sitting near the rim of the tub to the burgundy and cherry rose petals dotting every surface. There were towels, fresh soaps, and oils shelved on top of a rack. Next to those items were a change of clothes for the both of you.

You even purchased _chocolates_. There was a container set on the countertop, it was unopened and showcasing various flavors and coatings through the clear casing. They were tempting, though, in the back of your mind you knew that those packages would remain intact.

When he came through your front door, you had a plate full of his favorite food hot and ready. You had a feeling that Evan would be ready to eat, but you didn’t expect him to be as _starving_ as he was.

He had shoveled large bites of meat into his mouth, and while he did stop to enjoy the taste, you ended up returning to the table with his third plate.

Evan never failed to appear weary or to eat like he _wasn’t_ deprived. During his worst, his skin was dusted pale, seldom words fell from his lips, and a shadowy curtain hung under his pretty eyes. The weight on his shoulders was heavy and you knew he would constantly fight to keep those lids open.

Tonight was no different for him.

You hadn’t seen Evan in a little over two weeks. Your schedules, unfortunately, did not align and he happened to work the same grueling 24-to-48 hour shifts. When he first explained his lifestyle to you, it was rather strange and difficult to understand.

_‘You work a day or two at a time? Is that even humane?’_

It was a standard though, at least with the small town that you all lived in. Evan was used to it and a large part of the time was him sitting at the station and waiting for the next 911 call. The silver lining brought him three days off after those long shifts.

Tomorrow would mark the first of those three days with him.

So you called him earlier that afternoon, you had the holiday in the back of your mind and you planned to make it special. You asked him to come over once his shift ended, and he didn’t show an ounce of protest.

It had been over _2 weeks._

While you were putting everything into place, laying down those velvet rose petals and candles, you worried. What if you were doing too much? This kind of thing would easily borderline sappy and romantic. You weren’t sure what you were aiming for while decorating that bathroom.

But, you reflected, and you knew _one thing._

Your heart was in the right place. Every dollar you put in on the colorful balloons, the bouquet, the food, you knew that it was well spent. As you looked to each item in the bathroom, you only wish you could have spent _more._

It was all for him, it couldn’t be that silly.

There you were, holding him in your arms, standing by a filled tub, and coaxing him, _“I promise it will be relaxing. Please, let me take care of you, Ev.”_

Though he was stiff when he first saw all of the decorations, the uncertainty layering his face slowly fell away. Evan let you grab hold of the hem of his shirt. You slipped it over his head, following after was the rest of his clothes.

The garments were discarded to a pile in the corner of the bathroom. In return, Evan guided your clothes off of your body.

No words were added from either of you. The touches lingered and, as if you two were afraid, they were _lighter_ than air. He gazed at your fingers working along the goosebumps on his chest and his stomach.

Evan had a fascination with your ability to ostensibly paint those bumps on his skin. It was your gift, and ever since that first time you did it, he did not want anything else.

➽─────────────❥

Steam filled the entirety of the bathroom, smudging the mirrors and leaving beads of water to drip down the tile on the wall by the tub. The surface of the water met just under the rim and was littered with bubbles and rose petals.

Evan’s legs stretched along the length of the tub, his knees bent at a slight angle and provided some space for his body. He leaned against the edge of the tub, his head resting against a folded towel. Under heavy lids, he watched how you rinsed the washcloth and folded it over the chrome water spout.

After helping each other wash off, you decided to soak in the water with him. There was no rush for the two of you and the aroma of the oils in the water had begun to soothe you both, _Evan_ more especially.

His lids were fluttering as his head laid more weight on the makeshift pillow. You lounged back on the opposite side of the tub, with a tender smile on your lips. Your feet shifted to sit in his lap and you felt his hands move to gently grasp at your ankle.

Evan peeked through his lashes and began to massage from your heel to the sole of your feet with his fingers. You leaned your head into your palm and took in his movements. While he continued pressing the tips of his fingers, _wonderfully deep_ into your skin, you mused out loud,

_"Shouldn’t I be the one doing this for you?”_

He cocked a lazy brow at his hands and glanced to your face, a boyish grin pulling the corners of his mouth, _“It’s alright, and plus, you know how ticklish I am.”_

Your fingers crept under the surface of the water and toward the side of your torso, where his foot was resting. Evan’s expression was soon morphing into alarm and he pulled his legs up with a light-hearted chuckle.

His hold on your ankle was released and a teasing curl pulled on your lips. You began to shift your body to move closer to him, careful to not disturb the water and spill any over the rim. Evan fell quiet as he watched you close the distance between the both of you. Your thighs surrounded his hips and your hands moved to rest on the side of his neck and his shoulder.

He sat up more and followed the weight of you on top of him. You felt your chest press against the soft hairs on his and those wet palms smooth up your back. Evan looked up at you with a particular expression on his face, still not saying a word but simply filling his vision with you.

It was too long. You studied his stubbled face, the dots of freckles on his nose. Your fingertips were brought up to brush around his lips up to his cropped hairline.

You wiped at a remaining spot of shampoo near his temple from when you washed his hair. He titled his head and caught the pearly suds on your fingers, inquiring, _“How come I couldn’t wash your hair?”_

Evan met your eyes and you slid your hands to his nape and his jaw.

 _“It isn’t wash-day for me, that will be tomorrow,”_ you chuckled.

You figure that he would enjoy helping.

He bit at his lower lip and his arms tightened around your middle, pulling you closer. Between your legs, you brushed against Evan’s stiffening length. And kicking your hips into him drew hushed noises from both of your lungs.

_Two weeks._

You don’t want to sound dramatic, you don’t want to sound clingy, but you almost forgot the feel of his body. Those calluses on his palms, the rhythm of his breathing in his chest, his scent, and how it blanketed you. It was all him, _Evan_ , each little detail was renewing in your mind.

He was longing as he traced your face, he always had, but tonight you could see something pulling him lower.

You decided to pry, _“Is everything okay?”_

Evan released a sigh from the depths of his body, his dark brows drew together and brought a look of shame on his charming face. He dropped his eyes to the bubbly water around you.

_“I…I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other.”_

He followed the other decorations around the room and lingered his stare on the balloons, _“It’s been really busy at the station, so many calls came in and, fuck…I forgot about today.”_

You shook your head and cupped his jaw in your wet hands. Your thumbs massaged his facial hair and over his lips. Evan’s eyes fell back to yours, regret highlighting them and his contempt slipping away more.

_“Ev, it’s alright, you know that I understand.”_

Your lips brushed over his, still gently stroking his face, still holding onto him. His eyelids fluttered as your hands slid down below the water, grabbing a hold of his erection and caressing.

_“Don’t worry about all of this, I did it for you. Just let me…”_

His hips were latent, they shifted to pressed into your palm. You broke contact with Evan and watched your knees position to sink onto him. Just passing the ridge of his head, the rest of him continued to stretch into you. From his lips, he breathed out a sigh against your cheek.

Evan slid his hands down to the side of your hips and there they remained, those same calluses brushing against your smooth skin. The candlelight flickered and shone near the corner of his eye, reflecting a warm amber on your face.

Again, there was something unreadable behind that reflection, you couldn’t place your finger on it. He was looking at you like you were some sort of beacon, but it didn’t seem to reach too far in his lidded eyes.

_“Just let me feel you, let me feel that you’re right here with me.”_

Your forehead nuzzled into his the instant he settled fully inside you. It was honeyed, a thick pressure that burned away every other worry. The kind that worked through your muscles and broke every knot apart. You could feel it the moment all of him nestled inside. While you listened to Evan’s breathing, and how it began to pick up in pulses, you curled your arms around his shoulders melted into him.

➽─────────────❥

The moon was out by the time you laid into bed. Your curtains split and allowed in the cool blue light into your bedroom. It covered your shelves, your family pictures, and the dark screen of your television.

And, it fell upon your bodies, kissing the back of Evan’s head, his cotton clad shoulders, and legs. You watched from your position on the bed, you hand bathed in some of the soft light, only if you lifted it from the surface of the covers.

You didn’t move much though.

His breaths warmed your neck, the weight of his body not crushing but anchoring you there on your bed. You knew that he would be out as soon as you left that bath, and you _let_ him slump on top of you. You _let_ his lips slant against yours and his words slur into something incomprehensible. He tried so hard to stay afloat and to talk with you all night, _but—_

 _.._.but it could wait.

He laid his head in the crook of your neck, his clipped hair tickling your cheek and the side of your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his back, and you shushed his throaty sounds. He fought it until you rubbed your palms against his back, and soothed your fingers through that short hair of his.

You watched the moonlight on the items of your bedroom, on his body that was slowly rising and falling, on his arm that was tucked around your middle.

It had been two weeks.

Your mind raised that question, long ago that you never seemed to find an adequate answer to, _How come you never told me you had a brother, Walt?_

You remember the way he looked at you and his brother. You remember the fond expression behind his beard when he saw Evan laugh at your jokes, and how much Walter asked about him while you two talked. What did you miss?

Evan began to minutely fidget in his slumber, his arms securing around you and his face burying more into your neck. You closed your lids, shifted your head on the pillow, and breathed him in for the first time in _two weeks._ For the first time in that long while, you felt Evan’s weight seep clear to your bones.

That damn answer, it remained prodding,

.

.

.

_Because you never asked._

➽─────────────❥


End file.
